The Prophecy of Descendants
by Kerrison
Summary: An ancient prophecy is fulfilled when the Order Members try to wipe-out the Death Eater camp. The trio must each adapt to their new roles as their lives are irrevocably changed and new partnerships are formed.
1. Chapter 1

She was beyond tired, she could feel weariness settling into her bones.

She saw the almost imperceptible slump in Harry's shoulders and the smallest of hitches in Ron's gait as they ran; they were just as tired, each pulling from physical reserves they didn't even know they had. This was a test of their determination to not rely solely on their magical abilities. This mission alone tested the validity of their Harry-imposed early-morning runs, Hermione's willingness to learn the basics of hand-to-hand combat for emergency moments, and Ron's reluctant, yet dedicated rationing of his sweet intake.

Hours of running, dodging, rolling, hiding and casting spell after spell against Death Eaters was taking its toll on them all.

She knew the war wouldn't last much longer, but right now they were all so tired that even five minutes was too long!

Voldemort was running on empty, The Order knew that for sure. His followers were becoming fewer every day; some realizing the error of their ways but most perishing from the effects of practicing too much evil magic.

But there were still enough followers that it would take two teams to eradicate them all; the Infamous-Trio and the Order.

They had separated from the Order several hours ago, leaving the older witches and wizards to raid the main facility of Voldemort's followers and lay waste to those practicing within. And, like usual, it left Harry, Ron and Hermione to act as 'bait' and fend off any wayward Death Eaters.

Of course, for them nothing ever went as planned.

The Order's attack into the lair hadn't been unexpected and the dank castle used by Voldemort and his men had been extensively booby-trapped, both inside and out. It seemed that an alarm had been set up for any magic outside of the Dark Lord's castle-walls.

Harry had taken down two Death Eaters before a warning had sounded.

And that's when it began: the running and dodging, the rolling and jumping, all interspersed with spell after spell and curse after curse.

"There's only three left," she heard Harry mutter as they all sped out of the woods and into a clearing.

"One for each of us, then," Hermione suggested logically.

"Harry's already had 12! You're up to 11, Hermione! I get two so we're all even. Harry sit this one out!" Ron suggested as they tried to find the best offensive position.

"Its not a competition," Hermione grumbled, stopping short as she looked in front of them.

Ron gulped audibly. "I take it back," he said, counting well over ten Death Eaters approaching them from the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. "Harry, you'll have to pitch in—I'll just owe you if that's alright, mate."

Harry nodded, his attention focused entirely on the Death Eaters.

As if by some silent command they all moved back to back, creating a triangle with their bodies. They each had their own vantage point of the Death Eaters surrounding them.

"This would have been better ten minutes ago," Harry groused. "I'm a little worn out now."

"Told you we should have taken up jogging," Ron agreed.

"Boys!" Hermione hissed. "A little focus here, please!"

The words no sooner left her mouth than a Death Eater raised its wand and cast out at Harry, a bolt of red magic coursing towards his frame.

They both turned to take out the Death Eater, but it was too late. Harry's figure crumpled to the ground in a heap.

"Bastard!" Hermione shrieked, turning to cast on the Death Eater who had struck-down Harry.

As she spun towards the Death Eater, Ron rushed to keep his back to hers, not allowing a vulnerable target to open up. Despite the dire circumstances, he couldn't help but smirk at her language and how he seemed to be rubbing off on her.

His smirk was soon replaced with a look of utter horror when he took in the number of Death Eaters closing in on them. The Death Eaters all raised their wands and leveled them at the two young adults. He watched their mouths begin to form what would no doubt be a horrific and painful curse.

He couldn't even bark out a warning for Hermione to duck before he caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eye and his ears were assaulted by a variety of profane words he'd never known before. They were all drowned, however, by two voices he knew to belong to Snape and Lupin screaming a very impassioned "No."

Sparks of red magic flew from the wands of the Death Eaters just as flashes of blue were emitted by the members of the Order. The bolts of magic flew towards Ron and Hermione, meeting above their heads and battling fiercely, the air filled with hissing and popping as the two factions warred.

The bolts zigged and zagged in battle before suddenly plummeting and enveloping Hermione and Ron in a cocoon of purple magic.

She felt the electric shock of the magic surround her, coursing through her and setting every nerve ending on fire.

Her mouth opened as a scream bubbled up in her throat, but she was unable to speak. Out of the corner of her eye and through her blurred vision, she saw his body convulsing; blue eyes rapidly twitching and freckled body contorting against unknown forces.

She tried to reach out for him, her fingers forcing their way through the intensely thick magically-charged air. Their fingertips touched briefly, just the quickest of glances, and it was the last thing she knew.

Their bodies fell to the earth, landing tangled together, not two feet from where Harry had crumpled earlier.

There was a blur of red hair as Ron sat bolt up right in bed. He gasped for breath once before his face contorted and he leaned over next to the bed and emptied his stomach into the bucket next to his bed.

In the bedroom next door, an identical scene carried out with Hermione.

They both ran their hands over their eyes and into their hair, muttering "Bullocks," as they each took another deep breath, calming their bodies.

"Well, that was a pleasant wake up," a voice said softly from the corner.

"Gin?" Hermione asked, her voice thick from disuse.

"Yeah," the younger girl said softly. "Good to see you awake."

"How long- what happened- Ron? Harry? Is everyone-?" Hermione started as a battery of questions flooded her mind.

"They're fine," Ginny said, quickly calming Hermione. "Ron's right next door with Mum, he's been out as long as you have."

"He's up," Molly Weasley excitedly informed her daughter. "Oh, merciful Merlin! And you are as well!" A broad smile spread across the woman's features as she took in the sight of the child she considered an adopted daughter sitting up awake and alert. She bustled into the room quickly and pressed her lips to Hermione's forehead in her loving and motherly fashion before turning and quickly returning to Ron's room.

Ginny smiled softly. "Neat timing."

Hermione pushed her hair out of her face with one hand, looking closely at the other and the abrasions, burns and scald marks along her skin. "No wonder I'm sore," she said more to herself than to her redheaded friend.

"Let's get you freshened up and get some Pepper-up potion into you. When you're up for it, we'll move you and Ron down to the sitting room. I'm sure you're full of questions," Ginny said with a friendly chuckle. She dampened a cloth in the antique basin on the dresser and handed over to her former schoolmate. "Your clothes are at your flat, but I've got some that should fit you. Think you'll need any help?"

Hermione took a quick mental inventory of her body's condition. Sore didn't begin to cover it; it was as if every bone and muscle in her body had decided to go on an immediate whining spree and they were all complaining- loudly!

"No… I think I'll be ok-" she tried to stand and wobbled just a bit. "But just in case, don't go far."

******************

They sat on the sofa, pressing shoulders against each other, neither able to fully sit up for long periods of time without some support.

Harry was across from them, lounging comfortably in the large armchair.

"So you don't remember anything?" he asked again, quirking an eyebrow at them both.

Ron shrugged. "I remember feeling like I had just played Quidditch for three weeks straight, I was so tired. We were running forever it seemed."

Brown hair bobbed as the witch agreed. "I was just plum wiped out, Harry. I don't know that I could have gone for much longer. All I remember is the Death Eaters coming from nowhere, it seemed, then surrounding us and then one casting on you… then –"

"Then you cursed," Ron said with a small chuckle. "You called one a bastard. I remember because I was so proud that I was rubbing off on you."

Hermione's brown eyes rolled dramatically. "Mmm, I'm rather proud myself, Ron."

It took a few seconds before Ron's patented look passed over his features as he realized Hermione was _not _particularly proud of herself at all.

Harry grinned at his two best friends, having missed their squabbles over the last few days while they had been unconscious. "Is that it, Hermione? All you remember?"

"No," she said softly, frowning as she continued. "I think I recall turning and casting on the one who knocked you out. Then - then I saw them all raise their wands and they all cast on us at once. I thought I heard Snape's voice about that time, but I'm not sure. Oh! Ron, I saw your face- you looked like you were dying; it was horrid." A shaky sigh finished off her words as Hermione snuggled deeper into the sofa's cushion, trying to gain some sense of security.

"I'm alright, Hermione," Ron replied in a soft voice, laying his arm lightly over her shoulders. "But come to think of it, we likely shouldn't be. Harry- why are we alright?"

The young wizard removed his glasses and scrubbed his eyes quickly before returning the spectacles to his face. "I was out for most of it, too," he said, prefacing the story, "but Lupin came by days ago and filled me in. He said that the Order arrived just as the Death Eaters were about to cast. Snape, Lupin, Tonks—everyone cast at the same time, Death Eaters and the Order. The Order cast a counter-curse to the Death Eaters' magic; there were too many Death Eaters to try to wipe them out."

"Oh," Hermione said softly, as if it all became clear to her with that piece of news.

"This is why I never took Arithmancy class. This sort of rot makes my brain hurt," Ron searched his friends' eyes, trying to decipher any meaning at all. Deflated at not picking it up as quickly as Hermione, he said, "I'm lost. What am I missing here?"

"The two magics- good and evil- met in the air above us, Ron, I remember that. There were sparks and – the air was so thick with magic it was hard to breathe," she said softly.

Harry continued. "Lupin said they tried to keep the magic away from you all but they couldn't hold its position. He said that you all got caught in the cross fire; the magic encapsulated you both."

Ron gulped almost audibly. "Evil magic?"

"Both good and evil," Hermione said.

"It was the best they could do to save you, keeping up with the counter curse," Harry said, looking at his hands instead of at his friends.

"I'm sure they did the best they could," Hermione offered.

"Well- hopefully it wasn't all for nothing," Ron piped in. "How'd it go at the castle? Did they get everyone taken care of?" he asked, referring to the mission the Order had been on while the three had acted as bait.

"By the end of it all, we gave them more than enough time," was Harry's only reply. "Should take them almost a year to get up fighting power again—looks like we get an extended vacation."

Ron simply nodded, his red hair falling into his face briefly before he pushed it away with his least-injured hand.

As if waiting for her cue, Mrs. Weasley entered the room with her wand at the ready, glasses, a pitcher of lemonade and a plate of cookies floating in behind her. "Get everyone up to speed, then, Harry?"

"Almost," he said. "Just about to mention the hours you spent playing Healer, Mrs. Weasley."

The woman chuckled slightly as she poured drinks for everyone and passed the cookie-plate around. "Longest days of my life," she said. "A mother hates to see her children suffer!"

Hermione felt her cheeks redden. She knew she had been all but adopted into the Weasley family, but it was still a bit unnerving to hear it so plainly stated.

"Sorry, Mum" Ron muttered, taking a 'muggle' (chocolate chip) cookie for Hermione and Spinach flavored one for himself before setting the plate down.

"Its alright, dear. You're fine now and that's all I can ask for. Just a few bumps and bruises and a little bit of burning to your skin; we did what we could, but the burns wouldn't heal right off. They've been getting better but, well, of course Arthur thinks that letting the body heal itself the Muggle way is the best choice but -"

"Mum," Ron interrupted softly, reminding his mother that both Harry and Hermione had been raised in Muggle houses.

Mrs. Weasley looked up quickly and embarrassment briefly colored her cheeks. "Oh, yes, well, I suppose a few days of Muggle healing won't hurt any of us. After all, it served you both well for eleven years, didn't it?" she said, regarding both Harry and Hermione with loving gazes before excusing herself from the room.

Ron waited until she left the room. "So what happened to get us out from the magical 'bubble?'" he asked.

His friend shrugged. "They wouldn't say. They just said you were out mainly unharmed and we should consider ourselves lucky."

She sighed deeply before speaking. "Its ok, Harry. I feel perfectly normal, except for feeling like a heard of Hippogriffs ran over me. I'm sure we'll be fine again in no time- no lingering side effects."


	2. Chapter 2

Thud-um.

Thud-um.

Thud-um.

A pin-prick of light flickered in time to a natural rhythm.

The essence of light was suspended in the middle of a smokey-crystal ball.

His eyes were steady on the light. And it was only because of the intensity he had watched, observed, stared at the light, that he could see the tiny change.

It had gotten bigger. Stronger.

"My lord?" Pettigrew's voice broke through the silence. "The Death Eaters are ... they're wondering if you're pleased with ... if there's anything else they can do to serve you, sire?"

A withered, clawed hand un-curled from around the arm of the chair and waved in Pettigrew's direction in a dismissive gesture. "For now, they may rest." He nodded, almost imperceptibly. "We have time to plan, Wormtail. Plenty of time."

"My lord," Pettigrew's voice shook as he spoke, obviously hesitant to speak out of turn. "What is that?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Something doesn't feel right, Harry," Ron said under his breath. He spoke quietly in deference to the napping brunette leaning against his shoulder.

Ron and Hermione sat side by side on the porch-swing on the front porch of the burrow, their laps covered with an old patchwork quilt that had covered Ron's bed since childhood.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked from his seat on the rocker.

The redhead sighed, his arm unconsciously tightening around the brunette's shoulders. "I mean that it's been two months, Harry. I'm feeling better but she's still tired and she says she's hot all the time, but she's not running a fever." He paused and sighed.

"How 'bout asking your mum to take a look at her? She's the best healer of us all, I'd say."

He nodded. "I guess," Ron agreed. "But what if there's something wrong?"

Harry sighed heavily. "Then we'll deal with it. Just like always." He paused and regarded his friend with a slightly annoyed look. "Besides- I thought _you _were still sick?"

Ron shrugged. "For the most part, I'm fine. Few headaches here and there, but nothing like Hermione."

"So you're faking?"

He had the good grace too look slightly ashamed. "Didn't want her to feel bad."

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure, whatever it is, Ron, she'll be fine."

"But what if she's not?" Ron asked quietly, his gaze shifting towards the top of Hermione's head where it was tucked comfortably into his chest.

"Then you'd better get off the pot," Harry replied with a knowing look as he rose from the seat and headed into the house. The top portion of the Dutch-door slammed behind him.

Ron felt his lips involuntarily curl into a slight smile as he felt Hermione shift into wakefulness in his arms.

"What was all that about?" she asked, her voice thick from sleep.

"You heard that?" Ron queried, getting a quick nod in response. "He's just yelling at me about procrastinating."

Hermione yawned, her hand covering her mouth in a very ladylike gesture. "I thought that was my job?"

Ron chuckled. "Feel better after your nap?"

"A bit better now that I've rested, yeah," she said, still not moving from her position against him. "Didn't mean to use you as a pillow, Ron."

"Yes you did," he replied easily. They'd fallen into a quick and comfortable rhythm their last few years fighting Death Eaters. Their personal boundaries were all but gone after years of sleeping propped up against one another while waiting for Harry and Moody to return from their turn on patrol. His shoulder had become a common pillow for her as her lap had become for him.

She smirked and nuzzled his chest once in a still-sleepy motion before sitting up. "You look better," she remarked.

Ron gently tugged the blanket off their laps and began to fold it. "I feel fine," he finally admitted to her. "Last few days have been good for me."

"You've got your normal trouble-maker complexion back," she said, poking the tip of his nose with a finger in a quick teasing jab. She stretched, arching her back.

"I resent that!" He rose and towered above her.

Hermione smiled up at his face, backlit by the sunset. "No, Ronald, you resemble that."

He rolled his eyes. "Lunch is ready -- and if Mum keeps feeding you like this, you'll be feeling better in a few days, yourself."

"Better and ten stones heavier," she agreed with a chuckle.

******************


	4. Chapter 4

Something was not right.

Molly regarded her face with the practiced eye of both a mother and a healer.

The child's normally sparkling brown eyes were intermittently dull.

Her skin alternated between blotchy and flushed.

Her body was quite obviously exhausted, despite the hours of sleep she was getting.

Molly regarded the young girl who picked at her very bland dinner with obvious disinterest. While she never really was a voracious eater like Ron, Hermione usually cleaned her plate out of mere manners and respect for the chef.

She watched as Hermione half-sang the Birthday Song to Ginny. She saw the younger woman's complexion blanche at the sight of the Bavarian chocolate cake, usually Hermione's favorite.

And they all barely caught sight of her as she bolted from her seat and rushed out the back door, one hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

Something definitely was not right.

And Molly Weasley was determined to find out what.

******************

"She'll be fine, dears" Molly said, passing the boys as she came down the stairs and into the kitchen. She wiped her hands on a towel as she walked in a very clinical gesture.

For a brief moment, Ron caught sight of Hogwart's strongest healing-student, and he realized that had it not been for young love and an impromptu family, his mother might be the Ministry's strongest Healer on staff.

"What's wrong with her, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked in a quiet voice, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Nothing that a few months won't fix…then seventeen years more," she said in a voice that was too evenly controlled to be her normal tone.

"She's—?" Harry couldn't finish the thought aloud, his eyes focusing on the stairs as if he were trying to see through the walls up towards his bushy-haired friend.

"And right upset about it, too," Mollly replied before setting her sights firmly on Ron as she continued. "So if you aren't going to be supportive- or at least comforting- do _not_ go up and see her."

Ron's blue eyes narrowed and his face flushed from temper as he pieced together his mother's cryptic message. He turned swiftly on his heel and out the door, allowing the bottom portion of the Dutch door to slam shut behind him.


End file.
